


Playing with Fire

by reneewvlkers



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Lots and lots of fire, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Smoking, all typical aftg triggers tbqh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reneewvlkers/pseuds/reneewvlkers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The city is spread out before them, lit up and alive. Yet Neil can’t take his eyes off the small, crackling flame rising from Andrew’s fingers.</p><p>Small wisps of smoke rise from the fire towards Neil’s nose, and he can’t be sure Andrew didn’t intend that. He doesn’t know the limits of Andrew’s power. But Andrew knows that the smell is bringing Neil back; the memory of his mother, of gasoline and the hint of sea salt, is lending him strength. </p><p>Neil leans towards Andrew almost unconsciously, and the thought that he is like a moth to a flame almost brings a smile to his face. He can’t trust Andrew yet, but that doesn’t mean they can’t sit here like this. He can sense that it’s a relief to Andrew to have someone who doesn’t react with fear to his power, to the way he’ll play with fire, dipping his fingers this way and that and hoping he’ll burn.</p><p><i>Maybe we’ll burn together,</i> Neil thinks. <i>Maybe we’ll burn the whole world.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> huge thanks to [nooly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kickfoxing/pseuds/kickfoxing) and [francis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/minyardandrew) for editing and giving me enough confidence to actually post this 4.8k monster of a prologue

Nathaniel’s first memories are of magic. Men in armour going to claim what belongs to them; women soaring far above him; teenagers running and running, pushed along by the wind they controlled.

As always, though, these stories come with villains, and Nathaniel found that the heroes could change and become the villain in no time at all. _Power corrupts_ , someone told him once, and, looking back, he thinks that perhaps superpowers must be even more corrosive.

He watches familiar faces change before his eyes so they can go to places they shouldn’t have access to. He watches people crumble buildings with a flick of their fingers. He watches his father turn light into a blade and cut a man into even halves, blood spattering the wall and still a vicious, cold smile.

And there are stories, on the news or in history books, of how powered people have levelled towns or killed hundreds and thousands of people, either by intention or sheer recklessness. _Power corrupts._ You’d have to be a fool to miss seeing how dangerous these people are.

Nathaniel knew he was safe among them for only one reason, and even that came as a fluke. The only bit of luck the world ever deigned to bless him with was the blood coursing through his veins - as normal and unremarkable as a rock. He had no magic, and grew up both longing for the euphoria he would see in the users’ faces, and trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the damage they would cause.

Nathaniel’s talents lay in sitting still, in not giving away the game. By being absolutely normal and quiet and adding legitimacy to the group of spellcasters he would travel with. He would let his father’s people play with the wind around him, and watch them cut up apples with invisible lasers, and accept his role as mascot. He accepted this between harsh whispers from his father. _We are not human. We are more. We are better. We could level the world and it would not be a struggle. You cannot stand against us, so you will stand with us._

Nathaniel swallowed his tongue.

He had no allies except those that would use him. But one day, the hard flint in Mary’s eyes lit up in the way usually reserved for her hands, and she whispered a new word to Nathaniel. _Run._

So he did what the superheroes of his childhood never could, and he and Mary did what all humans do when faced with a threat too big for them - they took flight.

* * *

Dominic learnt how to smile at strangers and make friends. He learnt _safety in numbers_ and _the buddy system_ and how, if he was in a room full of unpowered people, he was safer than anywhere else. This all made sense to him.

Thomas learnt that he still needed to keep his head down and act normal, not to let anyone figure out what was going on at home. Not to let anyone know of the dangerous light that followed his parents around.

Stefan wanted to hit things, so he joined a football team. His mother warned him to be cautious, and he smiled and said he wouldn’t break anything. He wasn’t very good, but he learnt, again, that running could save him from his failings.

Matthew didn’t want to put all of his efforts into surviving. He thought there might be something more, and he tried to find it when his mother wasn’t looking. She burnt through all his presumptions and straight to the core of him - if there’s something more, it is not for him.

Alex learnt how to survive on his own, because he was old enough to learn to drive and cook and stick a knife like he meant it. The people at his school avoided the strange boy with the dark eyes. He no longer felt like he was normal enough to fit.

Chris started to adjust to how his life would be. He tried to balance it all - smiling and blending, distance and blades. Chris saw a familiar face before Mary did, but he could not run fast enough for the both of them.

Neil buried his mother after the last of her fire burned out, and did the only thing he knew how to. He ran.

* * *

Every time he joins a new school, he is tested for powers. It’s just protocol; a way to ensure the safety of the ‘normal’ students. The tests aren’t very thorough, because the people that designed them didn’t get help from anyone who actually knew what to look for. Either way, Neil passes. He is welcomed into this new school with sympathetic smiles and questions about his family.

 _I’m almost an adult_ , he says, as though those words mean something more to him. _I can look after myself_ , as though he hasn’t for years. He says it almost sarcastically, and the secretary thinks he’s funny.

The secretary - a young guy whose name is either Steve or Keith, Neil is pretty sure - apologises that he has to wait to get his schedule. But, while they wait, why doesn’t he run Neil through what the school has to offer?

 _Sure_ , Neil says, already starting to tune out the conversation. He doesn’t know where he’s going to sleep tonight. He couldn’t even shower in the morning before coming here, and people will start to notice if that happens more than a few times.

“-and we have a lot of sports teams! We’re not very good, but then we _are_ named after Dingoes. Hardly known for their ferocity, hm?” _Sports teams. Access to changing rooms. Showers._ Perhaps noticing Neil’s eyes sharpen as the conversation comes back into focus, he asks, “Are you good at any sports?”

“Running,” Neil says. “I’m good at running.”

* * *

 

It’s not hard to find the powered people in a crowd when you know what to look for. They’re always there, because if they don’t know how to pass the tests, then they won’t survive. The world is cruel to them, just as it has always been to people who haven’t fit. _Our time will come_ , says Nathan’s voice in Neil’s ear. He shrugs his shoulders to shake it off.

Neil seeks to discover every powered person in each place he is. They are the biggest threat to him; not because of their powers alone, but because they are most likely to be recruited into Nathan’s flock. Even in Millport, Arizona, Neil can’t rest for a second. _We’re everywhere. And one day, we will rise, and take our place. We will rule_. Neil can still hear the faint cheers, see the lights Nathan strung from his fingers, smell the strange scent of ozone that followed after Nathan used his power.

Powered individuals share the same weary look. They stay quiet and still whenever someone mentions magic. They will hide in the middle of a crowd of normal people. They smile and act friendly, but their smiles are edged with fear, with something more dangerous. Neil knows he stands out in the same ways.

It takes him a few days to become relatively confident that, in his classes, there are only two powered people. Only two people who might be close enough to notice and recognise Neil. And only one of them is really a problem; the boy looks like he is hopelessly out of his depths, like his powers developed yesterday and he’s sure everyone knows. Neil writes him off as a hopeless cause. The girl, though, has sharp eyes that say she’s known danger and won’t take anyone’s shit. And she runs almost as fast as Neil does. Faster, maybe, if she’s holding back like he is.

The first track meet is informal. They warm up and run races, give their names out, and start to figure out what kind of running suits them best. Neil remembers to hold back during sprints easily. In long distance races, though, he can’t gauge how much stamina he’s supposed to show. He paces himself to be a suitable distance behind the fastest runner and lets someone overtake him on the last lap; he acts as though he’s flagging, like it’s been a while since he’s run any great distance and he forgot not to waste his energy in the first lap. He gasps for breath when they’re done.

The girl comes up to him, pushing sweaty, mousey brown hair off her face. “Good run,” she says, grinning. “You’re pretty good. I was watching your back for most of that. Laura, by the way.”

“Neil,” he offers, after only a small hesitation he hopes she’ll attribute to his feigned breathlessness. “And thanks. Pushed myself too hard, I guess.”

“It’s alright, Coach will yell that out of you.” She rolls her eyes, but there’s some affection there. “New?”

“Yeah,” he responds, because he knows this game. She’s trying to measure him up, see what he’s made of. He doesn’t need to give more information.

“Cool,” her smile widens at his lack of response. “See you around, then.”

“See you,” he responds, and watches her walk off towards another girl who just finished. A short exchange, but it tells him she’s seen him too. Not running. Hiding.

It’s not the first time someone has played the same game as Nathaniel and placed him under powered. The trick is keeping a close enough distance so as not to be suspicious - _we stick together. Power in numbers._ \- but maintaining enough distance that he never has to prove his power.

You never ask. You don’t talk about powers, because admitting it is a risk too far. It’s enough to know. Maybe to show, if you want to feel reckless. A few droplets of rain under an empty sky. Pulling a pen to your hand from across a table. Walking an inch off the floor. Small things, easy to miss, but obvious when you’re looking.

Neil doesn’t show. He has nothing to show. But he can’t tell these people that, or they’d draw back too far for him to watch. So he acts as if to play safe. The others let him. Usually. They all know what it is to be scared - of other people finding out or of their own power, it doesn’t matter.

But Laura came to him. Something tells him he shouldn’t forget that.

* * *

They only talk on the field. She compliments his running and he thanks her. She offers him tips and he pretends he doesn’t know. He pretends his distance is wariness, awkwardness around people. She believes him. Or maybe she’s pretending too.

He sometimes gets the startling impression that she can see right through him. It’s almost like she knows that he is alone and powerless, that track team is, to him, only worth as much as the access to showers it affords and the occasional thrill of speed.

He keeps Laura at a careful distance. She doesn’t push, but she toes the line. They’re good at that. Runners know how to close a gap.

* * *

Months pass. Neil finds out that the track team spend time together outside of practice, and this isn’t as much of a surprise to him as his invitation is. That surprise was what led to him sitting in the grass with the rest of the team and picking at his lunch.

It’s a nice day, and the sun is warm. It’s just a miracle the rest of the team aren’t sick of this grass. Or maybe they take all their aggression out by pounding their feet into it, so that they can enjoy mild weather when it comes.

One of the boys is in Neil’s homeroom, and seems pleased to have someone to share his complaints with. “Dude, how did you get on with writing _college applications_?” He asks, almost as soon as Neil sits down, voice dripping with false enthusiasm.

“Not applying,” He replies. They had an hour of homeroom in the morning in order to write college applications, which was a peculiar notion given they were apparently supposed to have already applied months ago. Not that Neil was particularly concerned about college deadlines.

“What?” The other boy, George, draws out the sound to better showcase his envy. “What did Ms. Keel have you do instead?”

“Don’t be jealous, she spent a full minute telling me I was wrong before saying I should spend the time writing a resume instead.” Neil rolls his eyes; she’d given him a list of things to fit on one page, and his academic history had taken up more than that on its own. He supposes he’ll have to get a job at some point, but it’ll be hard to get more than a few jobs before employers start realising he only spends a year in each place and he reeks of runaway.

George groans. “I’ve already applied to all my colleges, but I still had to write an application. I’d have preferred to write a resume.”

“No, you were only allowed that if you survived the ring of Hell that is ‘you’re wasting your potential if you don’t at least _apply_ to college, your grades aren’t that bad!’” Neil responds, deadpan.

“God, Neil Josten making a joke?” Laura interjects. “Someone alert the media.”

“Ms. Keel begs jokes. Even from the quiet ones.” George says, then falls backwards to the grass in mimed slow motion.

Neil thinks that maybe blending into crowds can be kind of nice.

* * *

There are always rumours of powered people organising. It can be heard on the news, all but synonymous with gang violence or terrorism. “We can’t predict their movements, so it’s important to be vigilant. We must remember they are dangerous, but that if we work together, we will always be stronger.”

To Neil, it had always sounded exactly like the sort of things Nathan would say to keep his flock together and relying on one another. _We are all we have. The so-called ‘normal’ people will try and hurt us, so we have to show them that it won’t be that easy._ Mary used to shake her head. She thought that powered people would stick together without the threat of a war over their heads, but Nathan wouldn’t take that risk. He was cautious, even obsessive, over every detail. Nothing was too small to escape his notice. His operation was tight; there should be no way for anyone to let out rumours of powered people meeting. But then, if Nathan could manage to keep just shy of a hundred powered people in his group at all times, Neil supposed other people could do it too.

So the news warned people, even as uninformed as they must be. _They underestimate us. This will work to our advantage._ Unpowered people didn’t always believe it - many of them thought they’d never met a powered person before, so it was a distant threat, almost a fantasy. Other people reacted with fear and disgust, as though it were unnatural or somehow wrong for a persecuted group of people to find comfort in one another.

There were rumours among the powered people, too. Much quieter, but also more robust.

Laura is still in the changing rooms one evening after everyone but Neil had left. He doesn’t jump, but it’s a close call.

“Easy, tiger,” she smiles, and the sharp edges of her mouth make Neil think that she’s the tiger of the two of them. Looking at a smile like that, he thinks his mother might have been right in that girls are nothing but trouble. “C’mon,” she says, and leads him to the top of the bleachers.

Laura knows that Neil carries cigarettes and requests one. She smokes, and Neil does not. He wonders why a runner would take such poor care of her lungs, but then he remembers her life expectancy is about as promising as his.

“I’ve heard,” she says, after a minute or two, “that there are some recruiters who might come to track meets.”

“Hmm?” Neil responds, unsure about where this is heading, but still with a distant feeling of foreboding.

“We’ve all gotta think about the future, Neil. Maybe you haven’t thought about college seriously, but I think you should.” The smoke from her cigarette curls dangerously, then starts to spiral around Neil’s arm, aided by an unnatural breeze. “Or rather, some college recruiters might consider you.”

Neil understands, he thinks, but the idea of college recruiters seeking out powered individuals just seems… brazen. And if they work on the angle of sports, they are not casting enough of a net to catch every powered individual. “Have you heard anything?”

She shrugs, “Nothing definite, but I’m optimistic.” And she should be. She’s a good runner; if she were looking for a normal college scholarship, her chances would be good. Neil doesn’t know anything about this kind of recruitment, though.

He wonders how it works this way. How they know the person they’re recruiting is powered. Do they have auditions? What do they do to people who _don’t_ have powers but who know too much? How do they even tell you that this isn’t just any recruitment offer? His head swims. “How do you know… that they’re a good school?”

“I dunno. Hope for the best,” she says. She doesn’t seem that concerned, but then, both of their lives only continue through good luck that they haven’t faced someone they can’t beat yet. And Neil doesn’t doubt that pretty Laura has faced down some adversaries.

“Sounds risky,” Neil says, trying to will the smoke to come more towards his nostrils. He misses the smell of fire.

“So’s life.” Laura sounds weary. Neil recognises that weariness.

“I hope you get recruited,” He says. He may not like her that much, but she’s still the closest thing he’s had to a friend he’s had in years.

For once, her smile is all soft edges, and he remembers she’s not even 18 yet. She lets the smoke dissipate from around his arm, and it winds its natural course into the sky.

“You know the rest of the team think we’re dating,” she says, casually tapping the butt of the cigarette to free some ash instead of meeting his eyes.

“I don’t suppose waiting around after practice to smoke with me on the bleachers helps that.”

That startles a laugh out of Laura. “No, I guess not. I have good reason, though.”

Neil nods along. Silence falls for a couple of seconds, before he says, as casually as he’s able, “You can tell them we are, if that would help.” He means to hide the fact that she only talks to him because she’s under the impression that he’s powered, too.

She looks almost startled, and a breeze blows the hair off the back of her neck. “And if I didn’t want to just say it?” She says, regaining her composure in mere seconds.

Neil isn’t so composed. He holds his expression through practice, but he feels the ghost of his mother’s slap. His heart rate quickens slightly.

Laura is able to take this as an answer with a smirk. “Yeah, didn’t think I was your type,” She says, and to her credit, she doesn’t sound even a little wistful. “You’re not really mine, either. You’re so quiet. I need someone a bit more feisty.”

Neil thinks of the way Laura isn’t afraid for her voice to carry across the empty field in front of them, despite the world telling her every day that she’s the enemy, and he thinks she might have trouble finding someone to match her. Longing for something like that is dangerous, Neil knows. It seems Laura knows too. Maybe she just wants someone who can understand her.

“Thanks for the cigarette, Neil,” Laura says, and it only sounds a little bit like a sigh. “I’ll see you around.”

She descends the bleachers without so much as a backwards glance, and Neil doesn’t even feel afraid of the fact that she doesn’t offer him a ride home. He doesn’t know when she became someone to trust.

* * *

It’s not at the next track meet but at the one after that where Laura gets approached by a middle aged man in a polo shirt, and she beams when she tells the group that she’ll be attending the university of Texas in the Fall.

Later, when the rest of the group showers, Neil hangs back to talk to her. “No audition, or anything?”

She shrugs, still smiling. “I guess not.”

“Well done anyway,” Neil responds, and he knows he’s supposed to smile, but he also knows Laura doesn’t expect normal from him.

“Oh, shit! I should have mentioned you to them, shouldn’t I?” She looks genuinely concerned, and it’s almost nice.

Neil doesn’t tell her about the efforts he took to look completely normal as soon as he spotted the man in the polo shirt. Claire didn’t even seem to find Neil suddenly complementing the race she won an hour previously surprising at all, despite Neil’s usual standoffish nature, and Neil remembered that she was one of Laura’s friends. He wonders, still, what she’s told them about him. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to be dating her or not. “No, that’s alright. I don’t think college is for me, anyway,” he says, a broken record. Not that Neil knows what he’ll do when he graduates Millport, but staying at one university for four years is not on the cards.

“Still, it’d have been nice to have the option.” She sighs. “If anyone else comes, I’ll make sure they see you.”

“It’s fine-” He tries, but Laura waves him off.

“Go shower. You stink.”

* * *

Neil doesn’t win a race until March. Their team’s success had stalled, and they knew this was the last they would be competing. One of the girls makes an offhanded comment about how they’ll _actually try now, Coach, I promise_. The group chuckles, and Laura follows it with, _Yeah, we’ll need a superhero to save us now_ , and her eyes carefully don’t flick to Neil to appreciate her covert joke.

Neil doesn’t take any of this to heart. The success of the team doesn’t matter to him, not since he learnt how to pick the locks to the changing rooms so he could shower without needing the excuse of a meet. If they lose, then they lose. He only feels the faintest pang of regret that someone might have been recruited, had their team done better, advanced further. But it doesn’t impact him.

Neil’s race is one of the later ones, a simple 200m sprint. As he takes his place, the boy to the left of him, from a larger town named Florence, eyes the Dingo logo cheaply printed on his shirt and scoffs, “God, at least this race will be easy.”

Neil looks the boy up and down, and decides to ruin his day. As soon as he hears the word ‘go’, he shoots off, faster than he has run all year, and he doesn’t even think until he crosses the finish line.

He has almost a full second of relative quiet before the other runners cross the line. Someone he’s only seen during races from another school pats a sticky hand on Neil’s shoulder to gasp a breathless “Seriously?”, which Neil takes as a compliment. The boy from Florence placed fourth, and his face is blotchy red with rage.

His team doesn’t quite gape when he returns to them, but it’s close. “I know we said we needed a miracle, but we didn’t expect _you_ to come through, Josten,” George says.

“Please, since when have you ever beaten him?” A girl Neil can hear but not see responds.

Then he sees Laura talking to someone who must be a college recruiter, even if he barely looks the part, and he’s suddenly glad for his chatty teammates because it’s a lot easier to seem normal when he’s filled with the euphoria of winning a race and with the team babbling around him. But Laura shouts his name and waves him over, and he can’t help but think that this isn’t normal procedure. Any hint of a smile is wiped from his face.

“Neil Josten, is it?” The man says, gruff and curt. Neil nods. “David Wymack, I’m from Palmetto State University. Don’t suppose you’ve heard of us?” Neil shakes his head.

“I’m not-” He tries.

“No, let me get through the spiel first. It’s late in the season for recruiting, which you know, but we’re a bit desperate at this point,” Wymack grimaces slightly. “You’re fast. I saw your race just now. I hear from your friend that you’re new to track, but that won’t be the worst problem we’ll face this year. Occupational hazard of my type of team.” Somehow Neil isn’t surprised that this man outed himself as a powered individual right away. “We’d like to recruit you.”

“I don’t want to go to college,” Neil says, blankly. “So thank you, and I’m sorry to have wasted your time, but I should go back to my team now. I’m missing races.”

“Not even on a scholarship?” Wymack’s eyebrows are raised.

Neil shrugs, “Money’s not the problem.”

“If it’s safety, I’m sure you know there’s more safety in numbers,” Wymack smiles sardonically. “Of course you know, you’re trying to escape back to your pack now. Dingos, are you?” Neil tenses, and Wymack sighs. “I don’t mean to be threatening, but it’s been a hard season of recruiting. Our last recruit… things didn’t pan out as we’d hoped.” Neil doesn’t ask for elaboration; he knows the many ways powered individuals can... end up.

“I’m sorry, but… college isn’t my plan.”

“Listen, Neil, I’m going to be straight with you. I can’t really take ‘no’ for an answer. The board is riding my ass about taking this long to fill out my team for next year as it is, and with Laura already signed, you’re pretty much my last hope. Your friend said she thought I could help you. Said you sleep in the changing rooms. I don’t know what your deal is, and frankly, I don’t need to. But we can fly you out early, as soon as you’ve graduated, if you need. You won’t be the only one of my team who stays through the summer.”

Neil’s still reeling. While Neil ran his race, the only race he’s run to the best of his ability through the whole year, Laura had told this man enough to convince him to recruit Neil, come Hell or high water. There’s only one thing his stunned brain can think to say to send this man away, “I don’t have powers.”

Wymack regards him steadily. “Even if I believed that, and your friend gave me reason to believe I shouldn’t, that’s not the point. My team is about second chances. Recruiting the people others wouldn’t, and giving them a safe place for five more years.” Neil hardens again at _five years_. He shouldn’t have even stayed one year at Millport. “Whatever you are, if you’re a good runner then you’re in. I just need you to sign.”

Neil’s not sure when he started shaking his head, he just knows that this man’s proposition feels as though it’s posing more of a threat than Nathan’s men have in years. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Sadly not,” Wymack’s eyes are steady on Neil, and Neil suddenly realises that he’s considering it. He knows he shouldn’t be, but there’s no doubt in him that the best part of his year has been the track team. Not even the running, because he was always holding himself back, but the casual camaraderie; people knowing his name and joking with him. He thinks of how lonely life was on the road with Mary. Maybe the thought of his mother brings on an expression Wymack recognises, because he continues with a question: “Is it your parents that are the problem?”

Slowly, Neil nods.

“You’re an adult. You make the decision.” Wymack breaks into an almost gruesome grin. “Choose the right decision, and I will help you get out of here if I have to carry you myself.”

Neil risks a glance at Laura, who gives him an encouraging smile. He thinks of how long it’s been since someone has done something for him just out of sheer kindness, and he thinks of her companionship and how she’d been looking more closely than she’d let on. He thinks, too, about the thrill of a win, and that, if he says no, the only running he’ll do is away from his past.

Heart pumping hard in his chest and feeling more alive than he has in years, Neil says, firmly, “I’ll sign.”

**Author's Note:**

> please be gentle this is the first time i've even attempted a fic in over five years. thanks kids xo
> 
> edit: chapter two has in fact been deleted (again). sorry!!! I've finally settled on the way I'm going to finish this fic, which is why we now know how many chapters there are going to be... so hold tight.


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